


That Darn Cat

by nessismore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kittens, Tumblr Prompt, what r tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:04:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nessismore/pseuds/nessismore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy adopts a kitten. The kitten adopts Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Darn Cat

**Author's Note:**

> miawonders on tumblr prompted "darcy finds a cute kitten and hilarity ensues." I'm not sure about hilarity, but there is fluff.
> 
> Thank you to the wonderful [katertots](http://archiveofourown.org/users/katertots) for looking this over for me <3

“What the hell is that?” Darcy looks up from where she, Pepper, and Clint sit in the common room in Stark Tower, playing with the cutest kitten in the world. She’s named her Iphigenia (Figgy for short). Tony, however, looks less than impressed with Figgy’s charm. He’s glowering down at the three of them, and Darcy struggles to keep a completely guileless expression on her face.

“It’s a cat, Tony,” she says innocently. It doesn’t really work, because he glares even more fiercely, even as Figgy puts on a show of adorable, batting at the string dangling from Clint’s hand.

“What’s a cat doing here, Lewis?” Of course he’d know that she was the perpetrator, mostly because Pepper and Clint aren’t really around consistently enough to commit to a pet. Also, they just aren’t the pet type.

Darcy scrambles to her feet. “I rescued her. It was so sad, Tony. She was abandoned in an alleyway. I found her in a box that said ‘free kittens’ and no one wanted her. I just had to take her home.”

“How very _Oliver and Company_ ,” Tony says dryly. “You’re still not keeping her. What if someone has allergies—”

“Oh, no it’s cool, I looked at your personnel files and no one who lives or works here is seriously allergic to cats. So it’s all good.”

“You hacked into the personnel files again.” Tony sounds equal parts impressed and exasperated, but Darcy shrugs. 

“I had to. The shelter couldn’t take her and she had no place else to go, Tony.”

Tony’s scowl is set. “Do we look like a pet rescue?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Pepper mutters as she stands, then she picks up Figgy and puts her in Tony’s hands.

“Pep—what—“ Darcy watches as Figgy paws at Tony’s goatee and Tony just melts. His eyes get all big and soft, and Darcy thinks it might be the best reaction to a kitten pretty much ever. He scratches Figgy behind the ears then thrusts her back at Darcy. “Here.” He walks away, muttering under my breath.

“Can we keep her?” Darcy calls after him. He makes some kind of hand gesture and grumbles something about not wanting to find destroyed furniture all over the tower.

It’s not a no, so she decides to take it as a yes.

—

The doorbell rings, jarring Darcy from a peaceful sleep. She groans and rolls over. A glance at the clock tells her it’s six in the morning. It’s not an emergency, she knows, because there’s a specific code for that. No, whoever it is is paying some sort of social call, which who even does that at this hour? She debates ignoring it, but then the doorbell rings again. Darcy gets the feeling that whoever is at the door is not going away, and she tosses back the covers and rolls out of bed. She contemplates putting on a bra at the very least, but if someone is going to ring her doorbell before it’s even fully light outside, they can deal with her tank top and shorts.

She throws the door open and scowls, to be met with the sight of a shirtless Steve cuddling Figgy in his hands. In the past week it has become apparent that he loves her cat, and her cat loves him. Darcy hadn’t thought that Figgy would sneak out to see him, but apparently this is a thing that has happened.

“Rogers? What are you doing with my cat?” It comes out a little more brusquely than she intends, but she’s lucky anything coherent comes out because, hello? This is probably the greatest bare chest in existence. And hot man holding kitten? Yeah, she’s surprised that there’s not drool dribbling out of her mouth.

When she went to bed last night, Figgy was nestled comfortably on the pillow next to Darcy, like she had been for the past week. She reaches for her cat, and Steve hands her over with one last stroke of a finger against soft fur. “I woke up this morning and she was curled up against me. I hurried over because I figured you might be missing her.”

“Thank you. I probably would have flipped if I didn’t find her in the apartment. I don’t know how she got out.” Figgy has settled in Darcy’s hands and has fallen back asleep. Darcy and Steve stand in awkward silence, Darcy rocking on her heels. She tries really hard not to stare at his chest, until he realizes that he’s staring at hers. Her eyes snap up to his, and they’re both blushing bright red.

He runs his hands through his already disheveled hair, and Darcy’s tempted to reach out and touch. “I—uh—I have to go.”

“Right. Sorry. Thanks. For my cat.” God, she sounds like a moron. Before she can make it any _worse,_ she ducks back into her apartment and closes the door firmly in Steve’s face. “Bad kitty,” she whispers, putting Figgy back onto the pillow she’s been sleeping on, then gets back into bed herself. Darcy drifts back off to sleep, thinking about Steve’s bare chest, Yeah, that’s a sight worth waking up for at six in the morning. Her lips curve up into a grin and she reaches over to run her fingers over Figgy’s fur. “Good kitty.”

—

Later that day, Darcy sits in the common room with Tony on the couch, Figgy between them, while Pepper, Clint, Natasha, and Bruce sit and chat quietly at the kitchen island. Despite his grumbling, Tony loves Figgy. He buys her a scratching post and a litter box for the common room and Darcy’s beginning to think her cat is now a community cat. Not that Figgy minds. She loves the attention. She’s a surprisingly social cat, and she never lacks for anyone catering to her kitty whims. 

Tony pulls out a ridiculously elaborate cat toy, and she can’t tell if Tony made it himself or if he bought the damned thing. “You are going to spoil my cat, Stark,” Darcy grumbles.

“The Avenger’s kitten deserves only the best,” Tony says haughtily, which is rich considering that he didn’t even want Figgy a week ago.

“Darcy’s kitten wants to be a normal, well-adjusted cat,” she says primly, watching as Figgy abandons Tony’s lap in favor of going to greet Steve when he comes in. She rests her paws on his leg and meows plaintively, which is her sign that she wants to be picked up. Steve does, bringing her up to eye level, laughing when she bunts her head against him. Dear God, there is nothing better than seeing Steve Rogers playing with a kitten. He moves Tony’s contraption and sits down next to Darcy on the couch. He pulls a piece of string out of his pocket, and Figgy is in raptures, writhing this way and that to try to capture the string between her paws. Darcy tries not to stare, because all she can think about is him shirtless.

Tony snorts in disgust. “I buy her that Mouse in the House automatic cat toy for fifty bucks, but she prefers a piece of twine. Plebeian.”

“Cats are simple creatures, Tony,” Darcy says, watching Figgy pounce on the string in Steve’s lap. “Much like men.”

Tony shrugs. “Well, can’t argue with that one.”

“You really can’t,” Steve says, nodding and stroking Figgy behind the ear with a knuckle.

“Speaking of men, I heard you spent the evening playing with Darcy’s pussy, Capsicle.”

Of course he would know about that. Darcy tries not to be embarrassed. This is just Tony being Tony, and despite the tips of Steve’s ears reddening just a little, even he’s not reacting. Instead, he looks back at Pepper and the others. “Who had a week in the pool?”

“What?” Tony demands as Pepper claps enthusiastically.

“You couldn’t hold off on that joke for a day, Tony?” Bruce asks in exasperation as he—and everyone that isn’t Tony—hands Pepper a ten.

Darcy laughs, reaching over to run her hand over Figgy’s back, her hand colliding with Steve’s. Biting her lip, she grins up at him and says, “Personally, I think he’s shown a lot of restraint.”

“That’s because you put money down on an hour after we opened the pool,” Steve says with a smirk. That’s enough to send a little flutter through her stomach, and Darcy looks down. She is not going to melt in a puddle over Steve Rogers. She’s just not.

—

Steve wakes up once again to a warm, soft weight on top of his chest. This form is much smaller than the one that’s been inhabiting his dreams of late, but the furry head he reaches up to pet reminds him of Darcy anyway. He doesn’t know how her cat has ended up in here once again, but he does relish the prospect of returning her. He thinks back to yesterday morning and how he’d taken one look at Darcy and lost all ability to think clearly. His eyes kept straying to her breasts, which he felt a little less guilty about when he noticed her staring at him, too. It’s Saturday, and she’s mentioned a million times that she doesn’t do weekend mornings unless absolutely necessary, and since Thor’s back and Jane probably won’t need her this morning, he figures it might be best to drop in on her later rather than sooner. 

It’s six now, and he gets up to do his daily workout. Figgy is still fast asleep, and he gently moves her to a pillow so he can get up and grabs some coffee. The caffeine does nothing for him, but the bitterness is enough to wake him up and he likes the smell of it. He changes and plans to leave Figgy on the bed but she wakes up and jumps to the floor, following him out the door and to the gym. She curls up in the middle of the boxing ring while he goes through his routine, then she follows him back to his apartment, weaving in and out between his feet on the way back. He goes to shower, and she burrows into the discarded shirt he’d slept in. By the time he gets out, it’s nine o’clock and he leaves Darcy a message to say that he has her cat. It soon becomes obvious Figgy wants to play, so they spend the next hour doing that until she scurries to the front door. She flicks her tail, waiting impatiently for Steve to catch up with her, and Steve figures that means she’s ready to go home.

He’s never had a cat before and he wonders if they’re all like this. Not that Figgy is his cat, but he doesn’t mind so much that she seems to have claimed him. He stops and picks Figgy up, and they head over to Darcy’s apartment. She opens the door just as he’s getting ready to ring her doorbell. He takes a moment to process that she’s fully dressed this time (and he’s not disappointed—really, he’s not) before her eyes land on the kitten in his hands.

“Bad Figgy!” she croons, taking the cat from Steve’s hands. “I’m sorry, I got your message and I was about to head up to go get her. I don’t know how she keeps getting out. Or how she keeps getting into your place.”

“It’s not a problem. She’s good company.” He reaches out to run his knuckle across Figgy’s head, and his fingers brush against Darcy’s chin. They both freeze, staring at each other for a long moment until Figgy meows plaintively. Steve hurriedly drops his hands and clasps them behind his back to resist the temptation of reaching out to touch Darcy again. He likes the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers, and—no. He’s not going there.

“I guess the beast is hungry,” she says, interrupting his wayward train of thought. “This is what you get for abandoning the lady with the food.” A loud grumble fills the air, and Steve laughs. Darcy quirks her lips sheepishly. “I guess the kitty isn’t the only one who’s hungry. Why don’t you come in and I’ll make breakfast? It’s the least I can do when my cat keeps mistaking your apartment for a time share.”

“Thank you. Breakfast would be great.” He follows her into her apartment and he insists on feeding Figgy since she’s making breakfast. Breakfast somehow turns into a joint trip to the pet store, which turns into lunch at his place, which turns into a walk in Central Park. Somehow they end up with his fingers tangled with her. He doesn’t want to bring it up, because what if she takes her hand back? The walk in the park turns into dinner at a hole-in-the-wall Italian place, and more handholding as he walks her back to her apartment. They stop in front of her door.  This is the moment, he thinks, but he can’t quite muster up the courage to do it, and after looking up at him a long moment, Darcy turns her key, thanks him for the lovely day, and closes her door gently, but firmly, in his face. 

He hears a chuckle and a “Wow, smooth,” come from one of the vents in the ceiling. Steve sticks his middle finger up in its general direction.

—

It becomes a routine. Darcy goes to bed with Figgy on the pillow beside her and wakes up to Steve at her door with the cat in his hands. She invites him in for breakfast, they make small talk, and she avoids asking him why he doesn’t want to kiss her. Well, she’s pretty sure he wants to kiss her, judging by the way his eyes keep drifting to her lips and he keeps darting out his tongue to lick his, but he hasn’t and she’s curious about what gives. At this point she might just grab him and kiss him senseless herself.

That, however, can wait. Because she’s also curious about how her damned cat keeps getting out of the apartment. She’s had Natasha and Clint over to check for any openings where Figgy might get through, and while Clint spends most of his time on the floor with the cat, Natasha tells Darcy that she’s checked Steve’s apartment, too, and she can’t find where Figgy is going in and out, but she says she’ll look into it. Figgy abandons Clint and rubs against Natasha, and then both spies are out of her apartment.

She doesn’t want to keep Figgy locked up at night, but what if she wanders to the wrong place? What if she gets lost? She’s not going to take that chance with her precious little kitten. She decides to call in reinforcements. 

“Darcy, hi,” Steve says when he answers his phone. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, right? I need a plan.” She hangs up, because really that should be enough incentive to get him over to her apartment. When she hears the doorbell a few minutes later, she smiles to herself. 

“What’s going on?” he asks when she opens the door for him.

“It’s Figgy—“

“Is she okay?” And he looks so concerned for her cat that if she hadn’t already had feelings for him, that would definitely have pushed her over the edge. Figgy chooses that moment to make her presence known, winding her way between Darcy and Steve, rubbing herself against their ankles.

“She’s fine. But I worry about her getting out all the time. I was hoping you could help me.”

“What do you need?” he asks earnestly, because Steve is the best. Even if he’s confusing the hell out of her with the signals he’s sending. But Kitty first, stupid boy later.

She grins up at him. “How do you feel about kitty surveillance?”

—

He is not a big fan of kitty surveillance. It’s two a.m. and so far his apartment is Figgy-free, and he’s getting bored of sitting on the couch and watching the living room for any sign of cat. He’s tried to do some reading and watched some late night TV, but he keeps thinking about Darcy and kissing Darcy. Well, mostly he thinks about _not_ kissing Darcy and how much of an idiot that makes him. He keeps trying to find a way to bring it up without sounding stupid, but he can’t seem to find the words.

No, that’s not true. He’s got words in his head, but he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t appreciate it if he said, “Hi Darcy, sorry I didn’t kiss you that night but would you mind if I tried again? Because I would do it this time.” 

“You’re a dumbass, Rogers,” he says to himself. A faint meow answers him, and he sits up, startled to see Figgy sitting next to the couch. “How the heck did you get in here?” Steve demands, scooping her up in his hands. He looks around and notices his apartment door is open just a crack, just before it crashes open and Darcy appears looking disheveled and cranky.

“I turn my back for _one_ second!” she exclaims grumpily, glaring at her cat. “I went to the bathroom and she was gone!”

Steve laughs, trying not to stare at her rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath from her run up to his place. She’s in a tank top and shorts like that first time he saw her, and he feels his cheeks growing warm. He drags his gaze back up to her face. “I don’t know how she managed it, but she definitely came in through the front door.”

“She’s a brat,” Darcy grumbles. “I don’t suppose there’s any point in taking her back with me. She’ll probably just come right back here. You don’t mind do you?”

Steve nuzzles Figgy against his face. “No. No, it’s fine.” He sets Figgy down on the floor, and he’s walking Darcy to the door when Darcy yelps and pitches forward. Steve reaches out to keep her from falling, and then Darcy’s in his arms, her chest pressed tight against his. He swallows hard.

“I can see why Figgy likes you,” she says with an awkward laugh. He doesn’t know if she realizes she’s doing it, but she’s running her fingers over his chest. “You’re really warm.” She flattens her hands on his chest and bites her lip. “I think my cat hates me. She just tripped me.”

Steve tries to think of some kind of witty response to that, but he can’t, because this is it. He dips his head down, pressing his lips hard against hers. The kiss is awkward at first, and Steve wonders if maybe he made a mistake. Maybe she didn’t want him to kiss her. He’s about to pull away when Darcy pulls him closer, adjusting the angle of the kiss and damn. Her lips soft under his, her tongue stroking against his, her heart racing along with his—it all feels so good, and why the hell didn’t they do this sooner? Eventually they break apart. Figgy is winding between their legs, purring happily. 

He kisses Darcy softly. “Stay,” he says quietly.

She smiles and rests her head against his chest. “Okay.”

—

Darcy walks into the kitchen wearing one of Steve’s sweatshirts and feeling remarkably refreshed. Sure, she likes sex, but there’s something really wonderful about just sleeping beside someone you liked a lot. “Good morning,” Steve says with a grin, pulling Darcy into his lap. He’s leans in to give her a good morning kiss, but she steals his coffee first and takes a long drink. He laughs and pulls her closer.

“Nat called. She knows how Figgy got in and out.”

“How?” Darcy demands.

Steve smirks. “JARVIS speaks cat.”


End file.
